Page 85 of Unlikely Omega

“Please.” I writhe and he curses as he puts me down on my feet just as the horse and its rider reach us.

It is him. Taj. His hair is a dark mess, his cheeks flushed, his breastplate and helmet thumping against the back of the saddle where he’s tied them.

“Ariadne,” he breathes, reining his horse to a halt and swinging off the saddle. “Finn.”

Finnen harrumphs. “The only reason I told you to call me Finn is because I thought I wouldn’t see your ugly mug again—”

“Are you okay?” Ignoring him, Taj grips my arms, gives me a quick once-over, his gray eyes worried.

“I’m—”

“What are you doing here?” Finnen grabs Taj’s arm, hauling him back. “Are you insane? Weren’t you supposed to lead your men away from us? Or did you lie about that? Did you change your fucking mind to—”

“Shut up, Finn.” Taj wrenches his arm free, turning back to me. “I felt… a pain. A twist. Right here.” He bangs his chest with his fist. “I felt something was wrong.”

“And you came riding in to save the day?” Finnen says.

“I came riding in, as you say, to check that you two fools are okay.”

“What did you tell your men? The army—”

Taj’s eyes are fixed on mine. “Fuck the army. Fuck the Empire.”

“You’re joking,” Finnen mutters. “You don’t mean that. A few hours ago, you were singing a different tune. Nobody changes his beliefs just like that.”

I reach up, run my fingers over Taj’s fine stubble. It rasps under my fingertips. I let out a breath as the pain lessens.

“Fine,” Taj says, “I don’t really mean that, but you are… more important.”

“You barely know us,” Finnen insists.

“But you said it. We are the same. And more than that…”

“What?” Finnen has folded his arms over his chest and lifts his chin belligerently. “More than that, what, Commander?”

Taj chuckles. Shakes his head. Leans in and brushes his lips over mine. “Okay, kitten?”

And before I can react to that, at the pleasure that the pet name and the touch of his lips on mine sends through me, he turns, grabs Finnen’s shoulder, drags him in and kisses him firmly on the mouth, too.

And damn if the sight of that doesn’t send a jolt of pain/pleasure through my core, making me dizzy enough to grab for Taj before I go down.

Breaking the kiss, Taj turns back to me, frowning, and slides an arm around my waist. “I knew something was wrong. What’s going on?”

“Pre-heat. Probably.” Finnen sounds dazed, wheezing as if someone just punched him. “We think.”

“And where were you heading?”

“Village,” Finnen says. “Healer.”

It’s funny that he’s suddenly reduced to one-word sentences, I think, as I cling to Taj, drawing in his scent of tobacco and smoke as if I’m suffocating and it’s sweet, fresh air. As if Taj’s kiss sucked all coherence out of his mind.

Taj swings me up in his arms and I bury my face against his rough shirt, the relief at touching him again so great I can’t speak.

“We’re riding to the village,” he says. “Finn. Help me get her up.”

“Your horse can’t take three people.” Finnen huffs.

“He can if we go slow. Stop being a pest, priest, and help me.” Taj looks down at me and grins. “It will be fun.”

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